Embarrassment and Pain

Yesterday we had some donors from Chile come visit our community center to check up on some of the building projects they had funded. Somehow I got roped into showing them around one of neighborhoods where 22 families had been chosen to augment their one-room homes into 2-room homes. This is an area on a hillside, and when we were descending said hill on some questionable gravel-like conditions I was thinking to myself, "I hope nobody takes a digger", when the ground beneath me gave way and I found myself going in slow motion down . . .down . . . down. I am not that tall, but it just seemed to take forever to stick my hands out to take the impact instead of my backside. And what I nice surprise awaited me there! Yes, my friends, one of my hands landed in a plant that was nothing but 'espinas', or needles/thorns.

I didn't even notice (at first) because I was horrified to have fallen down in front of witnesses. I jumped right up again and tried to laugh it off. When I dusted my hands off on my pants, I encountered pain - and after looking at my right hand, I freaked out! I had a dozen or more espinas lodged in my skin. I picked out as many as I could right away, but there were at least 6 that were embedded deeply. One of my coworkers was there and after being assured I was all right, he started in on how the plant I fell on was poisonous, and that I was going to lose my hand if I didn't get the rest of the splinters out. Very nice. (He was kidding, of course.) I went home and soaked my hand in warm saltwater for 30 minutes to no avail. Those things weren't moving, but I tried a home remedy I read online, where a baking soda paste is supposed to help speed up the process of expelling splinters, etc. Today I woke up and my hand was still intact, but the entry sites of the splinters were swollen and red. I went into work today and two of my coworkers decided to 'help' me by picking the needles out with their fingernails and what was probably a un-sanitized pin. It was highly painful and effective. I am now left wondering if I have an infected hand. . .  Hm. Thank God for tetanus shots!

Saying "yes" to the dress

the design

Last week, I received a visit from Martha, a woman I got to know last year when her kids were part of the educational scholarship program. She is a very small, very quiet woman who is studying tailoring/dressmaking, and has been attending classes faithfully for several months. I had not seen her in quite some time, so I greeted her warmly and asked about her family, etc. She asked if she could speak to me alone so I figured that something must be wrong, but she only wanted to know if I would to help her out by being a model for a party dress. She timidly told me that I would have to buy the material but that she would make the dress for free, as it is part of her final exam.  I accepted this proposition with a huge smile and immediately made plans to head to the main market "La Cancha" to try to find something appropriate (translated: something I might actually wear once it is made). I have no idea how this project will turn out, but it will certainly help Martha! Here is what I picked out:
1) a design that by US standards is probably passe
2) a lovely flower print that is lilac and gray with a cream colored base AND
3) a purple base color (when the flower print is covering it, it really makes the lilac/purple pop).

Top layer

base color

Wish Martha luck! I'll keep you posted on developments. :)

Rainy Days are Saturdays. . . at least lately

I woke up this Saturday morning to a light pattering of rain outside. I looked at my bedside clock - 10:15 a.m.
Wow! Not something that usually happens to me, as I am an early riser. I suppose a combination of being sick all week and yesterday's workout probably should be thrown into the mix of reasons for sleeping in, but the rain is key. For whatever reason, the dozens of dogs in the neighborhood tend not to bark if it is raining. I'm sure they're curled up on their respective owners' stoops or seeking shelter somewhere, but because they aren't in the street, there is less reason for all the drivers to use their horns (which also rouse people from their dreams).
Anyway, the rainy season in Cochabamba finally seems to be petering off. For me, the season means I have to deal with small inconveniences of walking through flooded streets and mud, waiting for a sunny moment to wash my clothes, or sitting in a damp spot when taking public transportation. For many of the families whom I serve, the situation is much more dire.

 

 Me in the Southern Zone, after a house visit

After a hard rain, the water comes down the mountainsides and floods all the houses. There is very little shrubbery or plant life on the hillsides because the dry season is so long and hot that the sun ends up burning/killing everything. Also, any trees in the area have long been hacked down by those who are looking for firewood. A few weeks into the rainy season, it appears like the mountains are lush and green, but it is deceiving - the plants aren't enough to keep the water back. If a house wasn't built well or is older, you can imagine the damage one rainy season causes! I was out making house visits the other day and actually saw the "sewers" backing up and bubbling raw sewage into the open, after a mere 10 minute downpour. (The smell, I imagine, was close to the Bog of Stench in the movie Labyrinth.) My water engineer friend tells me that the flooding situation will only get worse as more streets get developed (without necessarily adding sewers) and there is less available earth to soak up the rain.

Isn't it funny how one moment we are praying for rain and the next we are wishing it away? (Well, that has been my experience growing up in the Midwest anyway.) In about 3 months, I'll be tired of sunny, hot days where every vehicle that passes me by on the road creates a cloud of dust that gets everywhere. I don't even want to think of what is IN that dust. . .
For now, I'll just be thankful for a rather restful night's sleep!

Fiery strikes

Image from Los Tiempos website

Today marks the first day of a 'paro de transporte', or transportation strike, in Cochabamba. The public transit drivers are lobbying for a price change in fares - from Bs.1.50 (US $0.21) to Bs. 2 (US $0.29) - and the general public is resisting. As seems to be custom here in Bolivia, if you want to be heard, a strike of some kind is in order. So, what does a paro entail? It means that none of the transit drivers will be offering service on their routes, and it could even mean that they block the roads and prevent other drivers (with private cars or motorcycles) from using the roads, as seen in the photo. It isn't necessarily violent, but they do mean business. Fares have not gone up for quite a while, and the transit drivers are citing the rising prices on other goods and services as the reason for making this the moment to raise the price of public transportation.

I work with poorer populations in the southern zone of the city, and I wonder how much this change could affect them. I mean, 50 bolivian cents probably doesn't sound like much, but when a person is only earning 25 bolivianos a day and trying to support a family, every cent counts. I can certainly understand why they are resisting the price hike.

It will be interesting to see how this all turns out. The latest report just came out that the strikers in the city's center are getting restless and starting to vandalize private property. I'm glad that I am far away from that action! In the meantime, I will definitely be getting some additional exercise as I'll be walking/biking to and from work until the paro lifts.

Gearing up for the next stretch

Winter!

I am back in Bolivia after a 5-week visit to the States. It was wonderful! I had missed the cold weather, snow, and air so cold that it takes your breath away. (I know, I know - it probably sounds strange to those of you who live in it full time for 6 months out of the year, but it is beautiful to me.) Also great was meeting the newest members of my ever-growing family, hanging out with my family and playing games (even euchre!), catching up with friends, and -though I hate to admit it- shopping. I went back to WI with a pretty clear list of what I would 'need' to get me through the rest of my time in Bolivia. It was comforting to try on clothes and have them fit, or to walk into a store that I knew would carry exactly the item I was looking for. The main market in Cochabamba (la Cancha) is great, but when I am seeking something in particular, I am often told by various vendors that the article I want is "mas alla" (over there), followed by a wave of an arm, gesturing in a random direction. A rather vague description, wouldn't you agree? Compare that to a store in Manty which I will only call "FF" and any clerk in the store can tell you not only in what aisle the item is stored, but also where in the aisle it is located and on what shelf.  I tell you, I really felt very spoiled by such specificity. Anyway, one item that alluded me almost until the end of my stay was a device that I could use on dogs - to get them to stop barking. (Although after having been bit twice by dogs, my parents were really pushing me to buy mace or pepper spray.) My neighborhood is full of dogs that bark for what seems like all day and all night. Although I have adapted to an extent, there have been occasions in which I have dreamed of owning a weapon that would give those dogs an actual reason for barking at night. Since buying a gun was out of the question, I researched online and found some training devices that claim to send out high pitched noises that would cause a dog to stop barking. Well, I thought, why not try it?  Desperate times call for desperate measures, after all. So I went ahead with my experiment and bought an "As Seen On TV" de-barker with hopes of solving the problem. Each night before retiring, I turn the device on.  Happily, I have noticed a difference. My landlords own two dogs that are human friendly but bark at anything else (and set off the dogs of neighboring houses) and they have stopped barking every time a stray dog passes by the house. At least during nighttime hours. There is a short range on the device - only about 30 feet. . . I am tempted to ask my parents to send more so that I can plant de-barkers at specific places in the barrio. But that might change the 'charm' of the general area, so for now I will resist that urge and just be happy that Doggies One and Two have calmed down.
During my visit, many people from the States asked me what my next steps are in regards to my future.  I have less than a year and a half left on my contract and mostly I am trying to take each day as it comes. I am not sure if I will sign up for another 3 year contract, but in the upcoming months I hope to reach a point of clarity on that issue.  Thanks to all who are supporting me in my journey! I will try to be a better blogger and keep you all entertained and up-to-date on the happenings here in Cochabamba.